


Mend

by simply_average



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Happy Ending, I'm too tired to be doing this, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simply_average/pseuds/simply_average
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship had been gradual. Akashi had taken an interest in other human beings after the Winter Cup, and Kuroko had naturally been more intriguing than the rest.</p>
<p>A month of talking to Kuroko, and Akashi was hooked.</p>
<p>They had been the perfect couple, lived together in university, celebrated all their anniversaries without fail, never fought (as much) and were one of those couples that everyone envied.</p>
<p>It had all fallen apart, though.</p>
<p>Akashi still didn’t know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mend

**Author's Note:**

> written for the wysv2016 event on tumblr. i'm too tired to proofread orz

“Akashi?!”

Akashi sighed at the surprised look on his best friend’s face.

“Midorima, I need a place to stay.”

–

After getting over his initial shock at Akashi’s blunt statement, Midorima ushered Akashi into his living room.

“Sit down, and please do explain yourself,” Midorima said, looking slightly anxious. It made Akashi feel guilty, since he, more than anyone knew of Midorima’s intolerance to sudden change.

“I’ve been disowned,” Akashi said, and really the best way to break such matters was by cutting straight to the point. It might have been too direct, and judging by the Midorima was staring at him in unabashed surprise, Akashi supposed he could have handled matters differently.

 

Then again, it was quite liberating to say the words out aloud, because it made them all the more real.

“What?” Midorima choked out finally, probably having had his fill of imitating a dying tortoise.

“I’m disowned. As in I’m not part of the Akashi family anymore, have been written out of the will-”

“I know what disowned means,” Midorima huffed out irritably, and Akashi suppressed a smile at Midorima’s tone because the return of Midorima’s familiar bossiness meant he had gotten over his initial surprise.

“Well then you understand why I need accommodation.”

Midorima shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, and Akashi’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you want monetary compensation? I can do that if-”

“ _Akashi_!” Midorima’s voice was an indignant squawk, and Akashi spotted the color rising in the high of his friend’s cheeks. “How could you insinuate-”

“Midorima-kun? I heard you shout, is something-”

That familiar soft voice halted mid-question, and Akashi couldn’t stop himself from turning around if he tried.

Kuroko stood there, his hair sticking up at odd angles as if he’d just woken, yet his eyes were alert.

Akashi swivelled to meet Midorima’s guilty green ones, his own eyes full of betrayal.

“Is _this_ the reason you’ve been acting suspicious?” Akashi couldn’t keep the derision out of his tone, and watched as Midorima flinched at his words, almost like a confirmation.

“I’ll be leaving then,” Akashi said, standing up, shooting a glare at Midorima who was busy having a nonverbal conversation with Kuroko.

Akashi tore his gaze away from the sickening sight, his masochistic heart reminding him of his own nonverbal conversations with Kuroko.

It may have been three years, yet he could still hear the declarations of love the two of them had whispered into each other’s ears, the smell of Kuroko’s cinnamon tea, the soft touch of lips against his.

It seemed like far too much time had passed, and yet it felt it like it was only yesterday he was waking up to Kuroko’s atrocious bedhead.

“Akashi,” Midorima said finally, when he was almost at the door, and despite his misgivings, Akashi stood. He blamed the flare of hope that had bloomed in his chest when he’d caught sight of Kuroko.

“You can stay here.”

His pride however, would never allow him to. “It’s fine, Midorima,” Akashi said, shaking his head. “I have other friends.”

“I insist.”

Something in Midorima’s words caught Akashi’s attention, and he turned around to face his friend. Midorima’s expression was pleading, and Akashi wasn’t sure why.

He couldn’t help the quick glance toward the person who was standing at the edge of the doorway, his expression closed as always.

“As long as it doesn’t trouble anyone,” Akashi said finally, giving in to his curiosity, and the relief that shone clear as day in Midorima’s face only made his curiosity grow.

“It wouldn’t be of any trouble to me,” Kuroko said, and the lack of emotion in his voice affected Akashi more than he’d like to admit.

“I’ll help you move in,” Midorima said, picking himself off the couch.

Akashi nodded, and he shot another quick look to the doorway, only to see Kuroko had disappeared.

//

Midorima sighed as he manoeuvred the car to the Akashi Mansion. “I suppose you aren’t going to tell me what happened with your father until I reveal about Kuroko?”

Akashi remained silent.

“Kuroko moved in a year ago,” Midorima revealed, even as he swerved to the left skillfully.

“He was…. quite distraught,” Midorima continued, and Akashi couldn’t help the leap of concern at his words and had to bite his tongue to avoid voicing his concern.

“He lost his job.” Akashi’s eyes widened. Kuroko had _loved_ his job. “I helped him rehabilitate, and offered a job in my hospital. He worked for some time there, before finding a job of his own. He stays with me because the other places are too expensive for his salary.”

“I do believe it’s your turn seeing as I’ve told you all I can,” Midorima prompted, and it was Akashi’s turn to sigh.

“My father found out about my sexuality.”

Midorima’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Akashi turned to stare out the window, his gaze fixed, and his mind lost in thoughts of the past.

“I don’t really mind,” Akashi confessed. “It’s quite the nouveau experience.”

Midorima gave Akashi an incredulous look as Akashi smiled, a little self-deprecatingly.

“It’s quite refreshing to do things of my own free will, without a hundred people watching my every move.”

“It doesn’t mean the media is going to lie low,” Midorima pointed out. “You’re one of the Board members of the Akashi Corps. You can’t just-”

“My father has given me an ultimatum,” Akashi cut in, “30 days to see the error of my ways and marry a bride of my choice.”

Despite himself Midorima snorted, making Akashi’s smile widen. “So you know what my decision is going to be, don’t you, Midorima?”

“Of course.”

“I have 30 days to topple my father’s empire.”

//

Packing Akashi’s things took hardly twenty minutes. There weren’t many possessions he wanted to keep, save for a worn basketball and the wooden shogi board that Midorima recognised as Akashi’s favourite.

Akashi hurriedly stuffed all of his things into a comfy backpack as the servants of the household watched from a distance, under strict orders from Akashi not to assist him.

“My father will know,” he told them. “There’s no use in losing your jobs for me.”

After a short, but emotional visit to Yukimaru, Akashi was ready to go.

“I’m worried about Yukimaru,” he revealed to Midorima, who turned away.

“I’m not sure how I can help,” Midorima said, and Akashi’s wistful look turned downright melancholic.

“You’re right,” he said, and even he then couldn’t help chancing one last glance toward the stables. “Let’s go.”

//

They arrived at Midorima’s place, and were greeted by an empty apartment and a small post-it note stuck to the refrigerator.

_“I’ll be having dinner out, Midorima-kun.”_

Akashi stared at the handwritten note for a minute, unwanted memories coming to the forefront of his mind. He wasn’t sure it was such a great idea to stay here, stay in the same place as his ex.

The ex he still had feelings for.

It sounded like something from a bad rom-com, like the ones Kuroko and he often used to watch (and poke fun at) back when they were dating.

Feeling more than slightly melancholic, Akashi turned away to where Midorima was putting his things away.

The past was best forgotten, Akashi told himself firmly, and that he would have better control over himself when he next met Kuroko.

//

A soft knock on the door roused Akashi.

His eyes stung, as he was still tired from when he had stayed up late last night.

He stumbled blearily towards the door, and threw it open.

Kuroko stood there, a towel in his hand.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Kuroko told, “but I’ve to get ready for work and I usually use this bathroom.”

Akashi moved away from the door and watched as Kuroko walked into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind.

He turned slightly, only to catch sight of him in the mirror that hung opposite him.

His hair was a mess, his eyes looked bloodshot and he’d slept in his shirt instead of changing into his nightclothes.

Akashi frowned at his reflection before turning away.

So much for his promise of maintaining his composure.

//

Kuroko left after a while.

Akashi didn’t know when exactly because he’d taken it upon himself to pass out again on the bed.

When he woke, it was 11:30 in the morning.

It was quite the pleasant surprise not to have any responsibilities, yet Akashi couldn’t shake of the nagging feeling of guilt that chipped at him, a sensation that he had forgotten to do something.

It was purely imaginary, of course.

He just wasn’t used to being on such a lax schedule.

He pulled himself into the bathroom and took a warm shower, trudging into the kitchen afterward to make something up for him.

The niggling bit of guilt only grew when he saw a small plate with a note saying - _Akashi._

He wasn’t sure when Midorima had acquired culinary skills, but when his stomach felt like a yawning black hole, he wasn’t much prone to analysing.

He polished off the plate of omurice (it had been delicious, but Akashi still doubted that Midorima had cooked, which only left -) and settled on his bed to browse through the stack of files he’d gotten from his father’s study.

It was going to be tedious, but he’d find a way to do this. He always won after all.

//

_“Can you get the door?” Kuroko smiled at him, looking tired, yet content. Akashi was glad he was the one who had put such a look on his lover’s face._

_“I’m too comfortable here,” Akashi responded, snuggling deeper into the blankets._

_“Akashi-kun is so lazy,” Kuroko laughed._

//

Akashi’s eyes opened.

It had been a while since he’d dreamt of Kuroko.

A short glance at the clock showed him it was a little past three, and Akashi opened his curtains a bit to glance outside at the darkness that seemed all-consuming.

He padded to the kitchen, hoping to get a cool drink of water, but stopped when spotted Kuroko hunched over the kitchen table.

Akashi hesitated, not knowing whether to proceed or ignore Kuroko, even though the very thought of ignoring Kuroko opened a yawning ache in his chest.

“Akashi-kun is that you?” Kuroko was quiet as always, and Akashi was glad his choice was wrested from him. It had been a week since he’d settled into Midorima’s place, and so far, he’d avoided all sort of direct contact with Kuroko.

It should have been logically more difficult, except Akashi had a sneaking suspicion that Kuroko had been avoiding him too.

“Kuroko,” he greeted, and Kuroko turned around to look at him.

“Akashi-kun, why are you up so late?” Kuroko asked, and Akashi raised a brow.

“Are _you_ asking me that? Why are you sitting here, looking upset?” Akashi shot back, and while it had been an off-hand comment, there was a ring of truth to it. Kuroko looked exhausted.

“I’m… having some trouble at work,” Kuroko admitted, and Akashi immediately moved forward.

“What is it?” Akashi enquired, suddenly wanting to know more, to comfort Kuroko, to ease the look of worry and pain in Kuroko’s eyes.

This was bad.

“I’m not able to hold a job for long,” Kuroko laughed, a little bitterly. “I’m not good at anything,” he said, and Akashi had to clench his hands into a fist to stop himself from touching Kuroko.

“I thought Midorima offered you a job?” Akashi asked, and Kuroko looked up at him, blue eyes wide.

“He did,” Kuroko admitted, “but I can’t encroach on his hospitality like that. He’s already doing me a huge favour by letting me stay at his place.”

Akashi watched Kuroko, and noted that Kuroko had changed very little, if at all. He was still as idealistic and self-sacrificing as ever, the familiar streak of stubbornness shining bright in his aqua eyes.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko said, voice softening and becoming more tender, “are _you_ okay?”

Akashi looked up. “I’m fine, Kuroko,” it was the truth, “It’s you who I’m worried about.”

“I’m fine too, Akashi-kun,” said Kuroko, smiling at him. Akashi’s heart beat faster in his chest. He had always had a soft spot for Kuroko’s smiles.

“You can always talk to me,” Kuroko said earnestly, “I wish you’d talk to me.” The last words were said in a wistful tone, and Akashi immediately looked up.

He knew Kuroko was probably implying something about being friends, but Akashi couldn’t help but imagine other connotations in Kuroko’s words.

This was bad, very bad for his heart.

“Of course. I don’t mind being friends.”

//

_Their relationship had been gradual. Akashi had taken an interest in other human beings after the Winter Cup, and Kuroko had naturally been more intriguing than the rest._

_A month of talking to Kuroko, and Akashi was hooked._

_They had been the perfect couple, lived together in university, celebrated all their anniversaries without fail, never fought (as much) and were one of those couples that everyone envied._

It had all fallen apart, though.

Akashi still didn’t know why.

//

_“I’m sorry, Akashi-kun. I really cannot do this anymore.”_

_Akashi stared at the note in a sort of numb daze._

_That was all Kuroko had left him - a note._

_Six years of living together, and knowing each other, and a single note was what he received in return._

_Akashi tore the paper, walked to his bedroom and slammed the door shut._

//

_He woke up in the middle of the night to piece the paper back together._

//

Akashi knew that Kuroko was bad for his life, especially when he was busy with the hostile takeover he had been planning, and his lingering feelings for Kuroko.

“I’m glad to see you’re talking to Kuroko,” Midorima told him over their shogi game that evening.

Akashi hummed in agreement, not looking at Midorima, yet his heart thumped rapidly.

“He’s doing much better, ever since you came,” Midorima revealed, and Akashi met Midorima’s sincere green eyes.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Akashi said, “and it’s a checkmate, Midorima.”

Midorima cursed, and went back to defending his king.

//

“Akashi-kun should take a break,” Kuroko announced, as he walked into Akashi’s room.

Akashi looked up to see the determined glint in Kuroko’s eyes and sighed. There would be no persuading the other when he got into moods like this.

“What do you want to do?” Akashi asked, rising from his chair.

Kuroko simply smiled at him.

//

_Oh no,_ was the first thought in Akashi’s mind because Kuroko’s version of having fun consisted of watching a movie marathon.

It was too reminiscent of the time they were dating.

Kuroko was curled on the sofa like a cat, legs tucked neatly underneath him, his eyes wide, as he focused on the screen.

Akashi cursed himself and his inability to keep his eyes of his former lover.

//

“Tell Takahiro-san I’m ready,” Akashi told into the phone, and watched Kuroko disappear into the bathroom.

Their rekindled friendship had been testing Akashi’s last ounce of control, partly because he was tired and vulnerable, but mostly because Kuroko was too charming for his own good.

Akashi sealed the deal, and sighed. Only three more days to go.

//

Midorima was surprised to hear of Akashi’s plan, and wished him well.

Akashi never told Kuroko.

//

The plan was a success, as expected.

His father had been forced to concede the company in order to save face, but Akashi didn’t feel an ounce of empathy for the man.

Akashi went back to Midorima’s apartment to retrieve his things, when he spotted Kuroko sitting on the couch, arms folded, and looking like the very picture of rage.

“When were you planning to tell me?” Kuroko asked, his voice quiet, yet Akashi knew that these were the times Kuroko was the most dangerous.

“I wasn’t,” Akashi admitted, and Kuroko looked up at him with betrayal.

“I thought we were friends,” Kuroko whispered.

“I thought we were dating too, well look where that got me,” Akashi snapped, his control thinning.

Kuroko’s eyes widened, and he stood up and stiffly informed Akashi, “Your things are packed already.”

Akashi’s anger grew at the way Kuroko seemingly brushed him off.

“Good. Run away again, Tetsuya,” he taunted, “That’s what you always do isn’t it?”

Kuroko stilled. “And what you do,” his blue eyes were glittering strangely, “is bottle up your emotions and pretend you don’t have them.”

The words hit Akashi right where it hurt because it was something a lot of people had told him. To see it repeated by his former lover however, was more impactful than what anyone else could have told him, because it implied that there was a kernel of truth in them.

“You’re the one who left me first!” Akashi’s voice was climbing.

“Yeah, because there was no meaning to our relationship anymore,” Kuroko said. “I’m done with you Akashi-kun,” he began to walk away.

Akashi’s hand stretched out to catch hold of Kuroko’s shirt.

Kuroko turned around in surprise.

“I hate you,” Akashi said, hating himself more than anything when he pressed his lips to Kuroko’s.

Kuroko seemed shell-shocked for a moment, but he opened his mouth and soon enough, Akashi’s mouth was invaded by Kuroko’s familiar taste.

They kissed like they were drowning, like it was their last kiss, and first kiss, like they loved each other.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything,” Kuroko whispered breathlessly, and Akashi nodded, ignoring the sting the words caused him.

If he had only one chance with Kuroko, Akashi thought to himself, he should make it count.

//

Kuroko woke up first.

He gazed at Akashi’s sleeping face with a fond expression and then sighed.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

He had broken one of the important rules that he’d framed for himself when he’d offered to be Akashi’s friend.

He moved to rise from the bed, but stopped when he felt Akashi’s hand on his arm.

“Don’t go, Tetsuya,” mumbled Akashi, voice hoarse with sleep. Kuroko’s body tingled at the words, his cheeks growing hot as he heard Akashi address him by his first name.

“Akashi-kun, I-” Kuroko began, but faltered when he noticed a red eye peek at him from the blankets.

Akashi sat up, still shirtless from last night. Kuroko tried not to focus on that.

“Are you going to tell me why you broke up with me Tetsuya?” Akashi asked, voice the epitome of the calm before the storm.

Kuroko averted his eyes from that burning, accusing gaze.

“I’m… It just wasn’t the same as before,” Kuroko said finally, the words not feeling adequate enough to express the loneliness, the lack of self-worth that had haunted him during the very end of their relationship.

“Then,” Akashi began, controlled anger dripping from his words, “why didn’t you say so? Tetsuya,” he continued, voice roughened with emotion, “ _I love you._ Why didn’t you realise that?”

Kuroko looked down, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the sheets.

Akashi placed a hand on his chin, and lifted his face, so that Kuroko’s blue eyes met his fire red.

“Did you doubt me? Did you think that I didn’t love you?” Akashi questioned, and Kuroko shut his eyes.

“It wasn’t like that,” Kuroko said, “I knew you loved me. I loved you too. I still love you, in fact,” Kuroko confessed, “but love isn’t enough to keep a relationship intact.”

Akashi’s fingers dropped away from Kuroko’s face.

“I was in a really bad place after you broke up with me,” Akashi told Kuroko, and Kuroko pursed his lips. He had heard the rumors.

“I’m sorry for anything I did, but Tetsuya, I’m not the only one at fault here.”

Kuroko turned to look at Akashi. “I know. I’m not saying I was an innocent victim. If anything, I should have brought my issues to you. But I didn’t,” Kuroko finished.

Kuroko watched a conflicting set of emotions run through Akashi’s face. “Then,” Akashi asked, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, “will you give me another chance?”

Kuroko swore his heart stilled in his chest, because that confession was really too much for his heart to handle.

He mulled over it for a moment, before nodding.

Akashi moved closer, and Kuroko leaned across, their lips brushing as if for the first time, soft and sweet.

They broke apart, and Kuroko almost cried from the amount of emotion in Akashi’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, holding Kuroko’s face so tenderly that Kuroko felt _cherished_ , “I will not let you down again.”

//

**Bonus:**

“What are the two of you doing, nanodayo?!” Midorima asked, looking horrified.

“What does it look like?” Akashi retorted lazily, as Kuroko gasped beneath him. “Shut the door when you leave, Midorima.”

—


End file.
